


Next Contestant

by robinasnyder



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a jealous boyfriend, which Eggsy finds hilarious. Eggsy's new favorite thing to do is annoy his boyfriend with a Nickleback song. </p><p>Or:<br/>An AU in which Harry likes dating strippers, but he tends to beat the shit out of people who touch his boyfriend, and Eggsy finds this endearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eggsy always laughed at him. Harry thought maybe Eggsy should be angry. The others were. It wasn’t Harry’s fault he had a type. They would always complain how him getting in the way of their making money. Which he would never do on purpose. And Besides, Eggsy seemed to do fine anyway. The other probably just used him as an excuse. 

And he did like Eggsy’s laugh. He even enjoyed the way Eggsy laughed when he did something ridiculous (He even enjoyed the times when Eggsy laughed and he had done something very serious.) It was just that damn song. Eggsy had been working on something for school (which Harry was very proud of him for paying for himself), when Eggsy suddenly turned around, pulled his earplugs out and gave Harry this most malicious smile that Harry had never known Eggsy was capable of. 

“I found your song,” Eggsy chirped with a very evil kind of glee

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, putting down his paper a little more to look at that peculiar smile. 

“I found your song, Harry,” Eggsy said. He quickly turned around and ripped the plugs out of their jack and cranked the songs. Harry then experienced possibly the most annoying (and partially embarrassing) 3:34 of his life. 

“What was that?” Harry demanded slowly. He’d at least been polite enough to not ask during the song. 

“That’s your song, Harry,” Eggsy chirped 

“That was very loud,” Harry said. 

“Uh-huh,” Eggsy said cheerfully. 

“And rude,” Harry said. 

“You can’t deny that it’s you though. It’s what you do,” Eggsy said. His grin was almost too big for his face. 

And Harry wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t going to agree that he was anything like a song that he’d never heard of (“Next Contestant”) from a group he’d never heard of (which was a apparently a very popular and hated group called Nickleback). He also wasn’t going to say that, yes, he had almost exactly said the main words of the chorus (“Is that your hand on my girl ~~boy~~ friend”). And he wasn’t going to admit that he did completely understand the point of view of the song’s narrator. 

He also wasn’t going to admit that after Eggsy played it for three months straight, put it on Harry’s ipod and hummed it every time Eggsy had to lead Harry away from the broken bodied aftermath that Harry would hesitate to classify as a bar brawl (Eggsy always called it one of Harry’s “little massacres”), that yes maybe Harry also started to hum it when he beat someone bloody for touching Eggsy.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew touching was part of Eggsy’s job. He was a stripper and a really good one. Eggsy would stay after time with Harry occasionally. Those times Harry got to see exactly what Eggsy could really do, what the years of gymnatiscs, running through the streets of London and parkour had molded Eggsy into. 

Eggsy loved aerial tricks. He loved flying through the air and not letting his feet touch the ground. When Harry encouraged Eggsy to enter a pole dancing competition, his routine had him with his feet constantly off the ground. And Eggsy shown like the sun when he got to play the way he wanted. 

But he was a good entertainer too. One of Harry’s best. Harry owned a string of Burlesque Houses, Gentleman’s Clubs and Strip Joints across the UK and France. All were a little different of course, and Harry tended to spend a little time at each place every year. Except when someone caught his interest. 

It was the nature of the job for clients to want to touch, and certain touches (a small caress of skin when slipping a dollar bill into a thong, that kind of thing) were acceptable, normal even. And Harry might even accept a patron smacking a performers bottom once in a while, but anything more than that and patrons got a warning. They got one warning and then they’d be escorted off the premises. If they tried a third time they’d never be allowed back into any of his establishments. That was standard procedure for him. 

But when he got interested in one of his performers, he was much, much more demanding. 

The first time anyone smacked Eggsy’s ass after Harry had become interested in him (which was almost as soon as Harry had seen him if he were honest) Harry had broken the man’s hand. Eggsy had stared at Harry like he was having some kind of divine revelation. 

After all, if Harry was the narrator of the song, Eggsy was the guy who wanted to date the guy in the song.

* * *

Harry owned Dean’s Dames, a strip joint in London, the place he’d first met Eggsy. It was one of many, though not one of his particular brand. It was just scummy. It wasn’t a good place. Harry was more of a silent partner, though he owned enough of the debt in the place that he owned more of the building than the man whose name was on the actual building. 

But Harry still made his yearly visits. Sometimes he’d go incognito, dress down some. But he didn’t like Dean Baker. The man was beneath him and Harry wanted to be certain that Mr. Baker knew it. He entered with no issue. The bouncers knew him. If they didn’t know him they learned very quickly. Harry approved all of the hirings for security at the facilities, even at places where he was a silent partner. 

Dean Baker had tried more than once to hire friends (or flunkies), but the safety of the talent was important or else they wouldn’t be able to get the best talent. Baker knew that if he ever hired someone for security without Harry’s consent again that Harry would call in the (not inconsiderable) loans and take the place right out from under Baker’s feet. 

Baker hired the talent. He hired the bar tender. He hired the cleaning staff (who clearly needed to do a better job from the way Harry’s Oxfords stuck to the floor with every step). All of them passed standard background checks. According to the contract, talent could have past substance abuse issues, but not the other employees. 

Whenever Harry visited he was certain that the men Baker hired didn’t have a record for substance abuse or dealing. But he was also certain that they did it anyway. Really, it was a very bad investment. Harry never should have agreed to it, but he liked having controlling interest in these types of places. It allowed him some quality control at least. Harry knew he was something of a control freak, though he normally just said he preferred precision and quality. 

He walked up to the bar and ordered a beer, one from the bottle and not on tap. He didn’t completely trust the glasses to be clean. The bartender was a big guy, one that Harry didn’t recognize except from the photo he’d seen when he’d glanced over the background check. 

“Evening, Mr. Hart,” the bartender said. 

“Evening,” Harry responded, accepting his beer. At least the bartender was polite. 

Harry took a sip and turned toward the stage. He paused there. He’d assumed Dean’s Dames was just for female strippers. At least he’d always seen women on stage while he was there. He also assumed that Baker was about as homophobic as it came. There had been a few times when Bake had come a few words away from having his debts called in before. 

Baker wasn’t completely stupid, and while Harry would never call the man empathetic or caring, he would call him manipulative. Baker was the type who read people enough to find how to hurt them. He was smart enough to see that Harry was angry enough at his words that he needed to stop. It had been a pity. 

Well, maybe not a pity. 

Whoever the talent was on the stage was engaging, beautiful, athletic. The man let himself twist around the pole and bat his eye lashes, playing more to the part of a female stripper’s typical routine than a man’s. Still, he seemed uncaring in his act, which just integrated that softness to a masculine image. 

“Kid’s good, right?” one of the patrons said. 

“Yes,” Harry said and took another sip. He let himself look for a moment longer before he turned and headed back to the office. He had business to talk with Baker, and he’d have more time to observe the performer up close after his dance was over. 

He slipped around the patrons who were staring greedily at the performer and back past the security guard at the door. The man opened the door right up. Harry had hired this guard specifically. The man had worked at his other establishments. And Harry was paying him to stay and keep an eye on things. 

Harry walked down the hall. He could still hear the music from the stage pounding down the halls, and he could hear the whispered voices of men and women. A few ducked their heads out of dressing room doors to watched him as he passed. He had no interest in them and walked down to Baker’s office. 

He knocked twice and then entered. Knocking was just polite after all. 

“Who the hell- oh, Mr Hart,” Baker said. He stood up from his seat behind his desk. At least he didn’t have his feet on the desk like he had the last time Harry had come for a check in. 

“Mr. Baker,” Harry said. He closed the door behind him. 

“Here for your yearly inspection,” Baker said. There was barely contained disdain in his voice. They didn’t like each other. That was fine. As long as the business worked they didn’t have to like each other. 

“Yes,” Harry said. He walked to Baker’s side of the desk and stood over him. “You seem to have made some changes with the talent.” 

“What?” 

“The young man on the stage,” Harry said.

“You mean Eggsy?” Baker asked with a smirk. 

What kind of a name was Eggsy? Well, he wouldn’t ever ask that out loud. It would be impolite. 

“Yes, I suppose that’s him. When did you add men to your selection?” Harry asked. 

“Eh, we got a good sized group of posh who come down here for a bit of rough, least with the hookers. Had a few boys in the neighborhood begging for a job, I figured we’d try it for a night. Turns out it’s a big draw and we started getting more birds too. Bigger audience-”

“Bigger pay,” Harry said, following Baker’s logic. He nodded and considered the man’s words before he spoke again. “I must admit that I am surprised, but not displeased. You always did have a good business sense.” 

“Why you got in bed with me in the first place,” Baker said with a rather disgusting smile. 

Harry couldn’t help the sneer that graced his lips. “Indeed.” 

“You liked Eggsy?” Baker asked suddenly. 

“He put on a good show,” Harry admitted. “There’s talent.” 

“I’ll get him to give you a private show,” Dean said. 

Harry considered turning the man down. But then it was part of the proper experience, and Harry did need to check out the private rooms. 

“Yes,” Harry said. “And don’t try to put me in the VIP room this time.” 

“Yes, sir,” Baker said. He pushed a button on his intercom and called his assistant (one of two, both of them with dog names). The bigger of the two came in. “Poodle, take Mr Hart to the Red Room.” 

“Yes, sir,” Poodle said, eyeing Harry. Harry smiled at him just a little. If Mr Poodle was smart he would remember the very polite fit he’d thrown the previous year when he’d seen the disgusting state of the private rooms, except the VIP room, which had been immaculate. 

“Lead the way,” Harry said. He continued to smile at Mr Poodle, who started to sweat. Good, he did remember. 

“Uh, this way, uh sir,” Poodle said, and guided Harry out. 

The room he took Harry to was not the VIP room. It wasn’t as nice. It was a hundred years better than it had been the last time Harry had seen the room. He’d check to be certain that the other private rooms were as clean. 

The private rooms at Dean’s Dames were color coded. It wasn’t original or even very pretty. To be honest, they looked a little bit like Baker had designed them after the Hogwarts houses. The Red Room was red and gold and so gaudy that Harry had to wince. 

That being said the red leather couch smelled of cleaning products and so did the entire room, which was a marked improvement from the year before. Harry even felt like he wouldn’t have to set his suit on fire if he sat on the sofa. 

He did sit down. He could still vaguely hear the music from down the hall. Only Dean Baker’s office was sound proofed. Otherwise the entire building could feel the low thrumming beat of whatever song they were playing at the moment. 

Harry considered the bottle of beer he still held. He finished it off. There was still more than half, but Harry gulped it down. He knew the signs in himself when he started getting an interest. He was curious about this performer, Eggsy. How the private session went would determine the way Harry acted from now. 

It was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline, excitement. Every time it was the same. The same feelings, the same curious looks from his new lovers, the same shock and fear the first time he reacted badly to a customer, the same angry yells. 

Harry was a masochist, and if he was honest with himself he enjoyed it for all that it hurt. The low thrums of excitement filled his stomach and he smiled slowly. He hoped this one would be interesting as well. 

The door opened and the performer entered. The man, young man, Eggsy jumped when he saw Harry. 

“Hello there, didn’t expect you here yet,” Eggsy said. He pulled on a smile and winked, even though he clearly wasn’t ready. He was still in a jacket and sweats. He’d probably planned to come change in the room. 

“I can see that,” Harry said, setting down his empty bottle. 

“Uh yeah,” Eggsy said. “No offense bruv, but aren’t you a little over dressed for this place?” 

“I came right from work,” Harry said, smiling a little wider. He felt a tiny trill of evil glee. The young man had no idea who he was talking to. He’d probably be so much less censored. That was always fun. You learned so many more things. 

“Oh, sure,” Eggsy said. He looked down at himself and then looked back up and grinned. Harry kept a close eye on him, curious how he would try to cover for not being at all ready or even properly dressed to deal with a client yet. 

“Yes?” Harry asked. 

Eggsy dropped his bag, the bag with his costume for the private dances onto the floor and went to the music player for the room. 

“So I heard you requested me special,” Eggsy said. “You saw something you liked.” 

“Fishing for compliments is not becoming,” Harry said. 

Eggsy threw a smirk over his shoulder. “And if I don’t care about being becoming?” 

“You’re the professional. You figure it out,” Harry said. 

Eggsy shrugged and started the music. It was some awful house music or something equally terrible. “Suit yourself, bruv. I’ll just do what I want then.” 

He pulled off his sweatshirt and sweatpants and hopped up onto the small stage and to the pole. The young man had the short shorts he’d probably pulled on to walk the floor after the show, but he didn’t have shoes on. Harry hadn’t noticed that until Eggsy jumped up on the pole and swung around. 

Strippers didn’t absolutely have to be able to swing themselves around the pole in elaborate tricks. If anything, while it was impressive the most important part was being able to engage the audience, and you didn’t have to be able to climb a pole to do that. Some performers never learned to do that. 

But the way Eggsy moved. He climbed right to the top and slid down only to swing himself back up. He grabbed onto the pole with his hand and held his body out horizontally, only to do what Harry could only describe as a belly dance. 

Harry had seen all kind of performances. He’d never seen that level of skill before, but the young man was electric. It was in his body, but also in his eyes and his smile. He was enjoying himself. He was having fun showing off for the unhelpful client. 

Harry felt his heart picking up. Engaging. The young man was engaging. He drew Harry in. And when Eggsy dropped off the pole and walked over to him Harry offered him a hand. Eggsy accepted the hand and allowed Harry to guide him to straddle Harry’s lap. 

“That was very good,” Harry said. He knew he had a small smile on his face. “I was right about you.”

“How so?” Eggsy asked. He wasn’t moving, simply sitting on Harry’s knees. He still allowed Harry to hold his hand. 

“Talent,” Harry said. Eggsy looked very pleased. “You’d do well at a more reputable establishment.” 

Eggsy made a face, which Harry found very interesting. “Nah, that’s not for me,” Eggsy said. 

“It isn’t?” Harry asked, feigning stupid, just to see what the other man would do. 

“Nah. Say, you want me to do something for you?” Eggsy asked. “Cause, let’s be real, I kind botched this from one end to the other and you know it.” 

“Yes, I do,” Harry said. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Eggsy said. He gave Harry a suspicious look. “You come around these places often.” 

“You could say that,” Harry said with a wider smile. “Seeing as how I own nearly two dozen, of “these places” as you so eloquently said, and I hold the note on this particular “place”.” 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Eggsy said, realization dawning across his face. “Mr. Hart… I am so, so very sorry,” he said, dropping the cheek for more than a little touch of fear and some very polite, even proper sounding speech.

“It’s alright, Eggsy,” Harry assured him. “I’m not angry. I saw you on stage and wanted to get a closer look at your skill.” 

“Oh,” Eggsy said, shifting on Harry’s knees now, clearly uncomfortable. “D’you get what you wanted?” 

“Yes, I did,” Harry said. “I did mean it when I said that you could go well on a better stage. I happen to own more than a few.” 

“Oh… thank you Mr. Hart, but also no thank you. I like it fine here,” Eggsy said. “Close to home.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, working hard to seem nonchalant about it, and not sound disappointed. He’d never liked people who didn’t like a bigger stage. He didn’t like people who limited themselves. But still there was that little thrill in his stomach. 

“Yeah, but thank you for the offer. It’s um… very nice of you,” Eggsy said. “You want me to do anything else while I’m here?” 

“No, thank you Eggsy,” Harry said. He still held onto Eggsy’s hand though. He wouldn’t let go until he’d retrieved his wallet from his pocket. 

Eggsy had tried to pull away at first from the grip, but he still when he say the wallet. He didn’t even get up while Harry opened his wallet and pulled out the fifty pound note (though his eyes did get a little wider). Harry slipped the note into Eggsy’s shorts. 

“Thank you Mr. Hart,” Eggsy said with a wink and a smile, which Harry found utterly charming. 

“I’ll leave you to get dressed,” Harry said. He watched Eggsy stand up. “And Mr. Baker normally believes I don’t tip.” 

Eggsy’s smile turned into a grin. “Thanks for the info.” 

“Thank you for the entertainment,” Harry said, standing up and dusting glitter off his pants. Oh well, more work for his ever patient (and well paid) dry cleaner. He showed himself out and went to inspect the other private rooms and run a little check on his investment. He didn’t allow himself to look back. Nor did he allow himself later to look for Eggsy in the crowd.

* * *

Harry knew when he was utterly charmed, and Eggsy Unwin (he had his file now) was utterly charming. He really, really would have preferred if Eggsy had taken him up on his offer of a different venue. It would have meant that Harry didn’t have to return to Dean’s Dames a week later (Eggsy was, again, terribly charming, after all). 

Dean’s Dames was barely a step above the other clubs that Harry had worked to bury with much better clubs that he controlled. Harry’s bare level control of this place made it tolerable. But not really for more than one visit every six month (maybe, if it was truly necessary). 

And here Harry was, back only a week later. 

Merlin, his dear and wonderful accountant, hadn’t even questioned it. He knew how much Harry hated the place. But he also knew Harry’s pattern. Merlin did him the solid of not asking him. Yet, anyway. 

Baker questioned it though. The second he saw Harry step foot into Dean’s Dames Baker’s eyebrows went up into his hairline. 

“I thought you didn’t see a problem when you were here last week,” Baker said. Harry had come early in the evening. He didn’t actually know when Eggsy’s next show was. 

“Sporadic reviews, Baker,” Harry said. “Need to be certain you don’t let yourself go lax just because I’ve had my “yearly visit”.” Harry smiled pleasantly. 

Baker walked off cursing under his breath.

Harry continued to smile pleasantly as he headed back to the changing room. He knocked and waited until he heard a vague ‘come in.’ He opened the door and all of the performers stared at him. 

“Mr. Hart,” Eggsy said. He was the first to recover and he smiled. 

Harry felt his heart beat a little faster and his smile soften to something much warmer. He knew that he was very, very gone. 

“Eggsy, may I speak with you for a moment?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, but I only got a minute before I’ve got a stage show,” Eggsy said. He stood up. He was already in costume and everything.

“It will only take a minute,” Harry promised. He waited for Eggsy to walk to him and out into the hall. Then Harry shut the door. 

“So, what is it?” Eggsy asked. “If it’s another job offer, thanks, but no thanks. I really do wanna stay here.” 

“I did hear you the first time,” Harry promised him. He still had that silly over warm smile on his face and he couldn’t even care. “I came to ask you when your day off was, and to see if you’d like to have dinner with me. Or a lunch if you’d like something a little more casual.” 

Eggsy stared at him for a moment. He opened and closed his mouth and stared again. “Wait, are you asking me out?” 

“Yes, Eggsy, I am,” Harry said. 

“On a date,” Eggsy said. 

“Yes,” Harry said. He was still smiling, more so now because he was feeling amused. 

“A dinner date,” Eggsy said. 

“Or a lunch date if you’d prefer,” Harry said. 

“But you’re like…” Eggsy trailed off and just made a sort of impotent hand gesture at all of Harry. 

“I hope you don’t mean “old”,” Harry said. 

“No,” Eggsy squawked, blushing rapidly. 

Harry laughed. “Good, I would have hated to have to say anything as awful as “well, then I’ll just have to prove how virile I still am”.” 

Eggsy looked even more embarrassed, but he smiled back. “Yeah, that is a really bad line.” 

“Of course it is,” Harry said. “Now, when do you have a day off?” 

“Tuesday is my next day off,” Eggsy said. “But um… can you meet Monday for lunch?” 

“Do I make you nervous?” Harry asked him seriously. 

“Oh… well, I mean, I don’t know you, so yeah, nervous. And you’re like… you may as well be my boss. And you’re all posh and walking around in suits where no one has business wearing suits,” Eggsy said. He was rambling a bit, but he’d pulled on a cheeky smile and Harry couldn’t help but laugh again. “Mostly I just want to try the date thing soonish, you know? My evenings and days off are jammed up with other stuff.” 

“I understand,” Harry said. He was terribly pleased that Eggsy did want to see him and soon. “I also find that I have an easier time getting afternoons off as well.” 

“Then I guess we’ll be a lunch date kind of couple,” Eggsy said, positively beaming now. “So, you gonna stick around for the show, or what?” 

“Yes, I will,” Harry said. He did want to get a chance to actually watch one of Eggsy’s full routines. 

“Gotta go then,” Eggsy said. He headed out to the stage. Harry watched him walk away (Eggsy did had a glorious strut) for a minute before he went back to find a spot to watch the show.

* * *

As far as lunch dates went, very little lunch was actually eaten. They ended up with Harry tossing some money down on the table and dragging Eggsy to his car. Their first time was in the back of Harry’s car in the middle of the day. Quick blow jobs and hasty straightening of clothes and driving away before someone could call the cops. 

(Harry did not need another fine for public indecency. Merlik might actually kill him.) 

They ended up at Harry’s house after that. They stumbled into the house, giggling like girls, and collapsed on the sofa, since it was the closest vaguely comfortable surface. 

“You’re wild, Harry,” Eggsy said, snuggled into Harry’s side like he belonged there, which he did. Harry tightened his grip a bit. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had felt that comfortable with him so quickly. 

“You’re a little wild yourself,” Harry said with a little smile. He kissed the top of Eggsy’s head, because he could. 

Eggsy let out a sound that sounded very much like a content sigh and then rested his cheek on Harry’s shoulder. Harry was even more charmed than before. 

“So, you pick up strippers often?” Eggsy said. 

“Always,” Harry said. “I must admit that I do have a type.” 

“And with all the joints you own you gotta be swimming in skin,” Eggsy said. “So, do I gotta share with a string of boys and girls or…” he trailed off. He sounded a little nervous, so Harry hugged him a little tighter to his side. 

“No. It’s just you, and I won’t be picking up anyone else while I have you,” Harry said. 

“So It’s all me until you find someone else you like?” Eggsy asked. He didn’t sound opposed, just curious. That made Harry a little sad. 

“Until you dump me,” Harry said. 

“What? Why would I dump you?” Eggsy asked. He turned his head to look at Harry and Harry turned his head to look at Eggsy. 

“I have a type,” Harry said. “And a pattern. I promise no physical harm will happen to you so long as we’re dating and I’ll never hurt you or have you hurt.” 

“Nice to know,” Eggsy said. “Do I have a reason to need to you telling me that?” 

“People have preconceptions, I’m afraid,” Harry said. “Given our lines of work.” 

“Okay, yeah fair. You gonna tell me what that pattern is?” Eggsy asked. 

“I promise that you’ll figure it out on your own very soon,” Harry said. “No need to ruin the surprise.” 

“Ponce,” Eggsy said and pressed into Harry all over again, curling up a bit like he’d done it for years. 

Harry was more than a little bit in love with him already.

* * *

Eggsy only had to wait another week to find out what Harry’s pattern was. Harry hadn’t meant to slip that fast, but he’d come by to visit Eggsy (and another surprise visit to Dean’s Dames) and he’d seen Dean Baker hurt Eggsy. 

Now, Harry would never in a million years allow and owner or manager to injure the talent to begin with. It was bad for business. But this was Eggsy and Eggsy was his. 

Harry had walked right to the back. Baker’s door was opened and he was growling at Eggsy. Rottweiler and Poodle were flanking him. Harry hadn’t liked the scene immediately and he’d been about to speak when Baker punched Eggsy. 

Harry saw red. He walked right in. Baker said something and Eggsy was looking at him. Harry grabbed Baker’s hand with both of his own and snapped his middle finger. Baker screamed. Eggsy shouted at him and the two body guards looked like they wanted to jump on him. They probably would have too if Harry hadn’t grabbed the letter opener Baker kept on his desk (had he ever threatened Eggsy with it?) and shoved it to Baker’s neck. Baker was bleeding, but not badly. Not yet. 

“I’m calling in my debt,” Harry said. His voice was flat. The emotion had dropped out of it and that was dangerous. He’d done wet work when he was young and still in the military. Baker was lucky that he still had all his fingers attached, especially when Harry had a knife in his hand. 

“You’re crazy,” Baker said. He had tears in his eyes. Pain tended to do that to people. 

“Possibly,” Harry said. “But this is my business now. You have 2 minutes to take your cogs and get out.” 

Harry let him go, but he still had the bloodied letter opener in his hand. Dean Baker looked at him for about ten second before he stood up. 

“Let’s go,” Baker said. 

His dogs looked shocked, but they followed him out anyway. It turned out that Dean Baker wasn’t a stupid man after all. 

Harry was a little stupid, though. He hadn’t been paying attention to Eggsy, who punched him in the arm. 

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Eggsy demanded. “That asshole has to pay my mom child support. How’s he gonna manage that with no business?” 

Harry put the letter down and rubbed his arm. “That hurt.” 

“Of course it did!” Eggsy snapped. “You just tossed my family’s welfare out of the damn door! What’s my mum gonna do now?” 

“Dean Baker is your father?” Harry asked. Eggsy’s file said ‘Gary Unwin’. Baker having his son work as a stripper was sick. 

“Dean’s my step dad. My ex-step dad. But he’s my little sister’s dad and he’s paying my mom child support,” Eggsy said. He sounded very angry. That made some level of sense. 

“Okay,” Harry said. “I can fix that easy enough.” 

“How,” Eggsy demanded. 

“I’ll put the business in your name. You’ll get Baker’s cut of the profits,” Harry said. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Eggsy asked. Now he sounded more panicked than angry. 

“No,” Harry said. “He hurt you, Eggsy. I can’t have a partner who hurts his staff, and I especially can’t work with a man who hurts my lover. You’re mine. No one else gets to touch you.” 

Eggsy looked like he was about to speak. Then he closed his mouth and just thought for a moment. When he spoke his voice was a much quieter and calmer than the near shouting he’d been doing before. 

“Is this what you meant about a pattern?” Eggsy asked. 

“Yes,” Harry said. 

“Do you always give strip joints to your boyfriends?” Eggsy asked. 

“No,” Harry said. “Normally I just dislocate someone’s shoulder when they try to get too handsy with what’s mine.” 

“Is that it?” Eggsy asked. 

“To vary degrees, yes,” Harry said. 

Eggsy looked thoughtful again. Harry wondered for a second if Eggsy was going to break up with him already. But then Eggsy spoke. “You’re not going to turn around and take this away if we break up?” 

“I won’t,” Harry assured him. “I will even put it in writing if you wish.” 

“I do,” Eggsy said. “So, who’d going to run this place now that’s Dean not gonna be around.” 

“Well, until I can train a new manager, I’m going to have to be around more,” Harry said. “Why are you grinning?” 

“Excellent. Now I really do get to bother you,” Eggsy said, grinning like a maniac.

* * *

A year and a half later Harry had Eggsy sprawled across his lap. That awful song was playing off the new computer that Harry had bought Eggsy (Eggsy never said no to gifts, so long as Harry knew it was buying favors or love. And Harry assured Eggsy he just liked giving the people he liked things. It worked for them). Harry flipped through files on his tablet and rubbed Eggsy’s stomach. 

“I could run it now, you know,” Eggsy said. 

“You can run it when you finish your business degree,” Harry said. They’d had this argument a million times. He didn’t think Eggsy was even that serious about anymore. He seemed to like school more than he would ever say out loud. Harry was proud of Eggsy’s last semester’s grades. 

“You’re going to drive all the customers away if you keep running it,” Eggsy said. He turned and gave Harry a cheeky smile. Harry lightly swatted Eggsy’s stomach. 

“It’s not my fault that people can’t understand my one rule,” Harry said. 

“Hands off Eggsy,” Eggsy said with a grin. He shifted so he could hit play on the song again. Harry didn’t even mind anymore.

“Hands off Eggsy,” Harry agreed. 

“Good,” Eggsy said, settling back in and closing his eyes. Harry scratched his tummy because he knew it would make Eggsy smiled (which it did) and that it wouldn’t make him open his eyes (and he didn’t). 

“Glad you approve,” Harry said. 

He thought maybe if he was the overprotective, over controlling sadist in the song, then Eggsy was the sadist who led unsuspecting victims into Harry’s clutches. Really, they were a match made in heaven and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter from here on out is a bonus scene of some kind. In this case: Harry buys Eggsy a dog.

Harry decided to buy Eggsy a dog. 

It wasn’t exactly a rash decision, but it wasn’t exactly not a rash decision either. 

He’d came one evening to find Eggsy already in his house. He’d given Eggsy a key after about their third date. Eggsy gave Harry a copy of his key when he came over that one time to babysit Daisy for the day. So seeing Eggsy in his house wasn’t all that odd. What was weird was that Eggsy seemed to be having a staring contest with Mr. Pickle. 

“Did Mr. Pickle say something to insult you?” Harry asked. He then irrationally felt like if Mr. Pickle had inexplicably done something to insult Eggsy that he’d take the damn thing out and kill it all over again. 

“Wha? Nah bruv, still just can’t believe you got your dog stuffed and put it in your bathroom,” Eggsy said, shaking his head. He stepped away from Mr. Pickle and over to Harry. Eggsy even gave him a kiss. 

“You haven’t ever wanted to keep a cherished pet even after they passed?” Harry asked. That didn’t exactly explain why Mr. Pickle lived in the bathroom. It wasn’t Harry’s fault the silly thing had spent half its life trying to get into it. He’d had to replace the door after the dog died because of how scratched up it had been. 

“Yeah, well,” Eggsy said. Harry tightened his grip so that Eggsy couldn’t just get away. Eggsy did that when he was embarrassed to admit something. 

“Eggsy?” Harry asked. 

“I ain’t ever had a pet,” Eggsy said. 

“Never?” Harry asked, sort of stunned. 

“Yeah, well when Dean took it upon himself to sell every gift I got about three months after I got it, of course I wasn’t getting a dog. There’s no resell value,” Eggsy muttered darkly. 

Harry considered that he probably should have done worse to Mr. Baker than just break a few fingers. 

“Harry,” Eggsy interrupted. “It’s over. He’s out of our lives. You don’t need to go hunting or nothin.” 

Well, it was nice to know that Eggsy knew him so well, anyway. 

But still, every boy deserved a dog. That was Harry’s feeling on it. That was just common sense really. So Harry found himself at a kennel later in the week. He had done a lot of research on what type of dog would be appropriate with a two and a half year old running around. He finally settled on a pug. He picked up the dog, a puppy really. He paid for the thing and set up a tab back at his vet’s office and bought food, toys, beds, the works for the silly thing. 

Then he drove the dog over to Eggsy’s place and dropped it off with Michelle and Daisy Unwin. 

“You got Eggsy a dog?” she asked with an amused smile. 

As far as Harry could tell, Eggsy’s mother liked him. Not as much as Eggsy did (thank goodness), but he was the last piece that got Dean out of their life completely and got them a steady income. So yeah, even though he was twice Eggsy’s age, she still seemed to like him. 

“Every boy should have a dog,” Harry said. Then he saw Daisy reaching for him to be picked up. He scooped her up and held her on his hip. “And every princess deserves a strong guard dog.” 

Michelle had smiled more after that. Once Harry explained that he’d taken care of everything but naming the pup, she seemed even more willing to accept. 

Harry didn’t know exactly how Michelle convinced Eggsy to keep it (Eggsy was, unfortunately, bad at accepting gifts unless he could see a way that it would be good for his mom or sister), and to not give the pug to Daisy. But the next time Harry saw Eggsy, Eggsy had the little pug tucked into his jacket so it wouldn’t have to walk on the snowy ground. 

Eggsy also named the thing JB after Jack Bauer, which Harry found absolutely adorable. 

“I named him after you,” Eggsy insisted with a smirk. 

And consider the violent things Jack Bauer did, Harry couldn’t completely disagree with Eggsy’s assessment. 

And while Harry found the little fur ball a pain in the ass to clean up after (it shed all over his house), and more than a little stupid (even Eggsy would admit JB was pretty dumb, even as Eggsy hugged and snuggled the silly thing), he was very, very happy that Eggsy had JB. 

Whenever he saw Essgy asleep on Harry’s sofa, with JB asleep on Eggsy’s chest, Harry wouldn’t even think twice about pulling the throw over the pair of them and letting them nap on. They were too adorable. JB made Eggsy happy, and after all, that was why Harry had gotten JB in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus story: the second time Harry hurt someone for Eggsy.

The first time Harry ever hurt anyone for Eggsy was Eggsy’s ex-step-dad. The second time was just a customer who’d gotten too handsy. 

Harry had offered to move Eggsy to another one of his clubs (again) once Dean was gone, but again Eggsy turned him down. 

“This place is in my name. I gotta make sure that it’s got people coming in,” Eggsy said. “Sides, it really is close to home.” 

It really was close to Eggsy’s flat, Harry would agree to that. If he didn’t think it would put Dean’s Dames out of business, Harry would have opened another club, a higher end club, right around the corner. If he did put Dean’s Dames out of business though, then Eggsy would be unhappy. Harry didn’t want to make Eggsy unhappy. 

It just meant that Harry had to move into the office of Dean’s Dames to try and manage the place until he could find someone suitable to manage the place up to Harry’s standards. 

(Merlin had pointed out the Percival managed six of his clubs with no issue and made them all a ton of money and that he could easily manage Dean’s Dames. But Harry pretended not to hear him.) 

Harry did work hard. He was pouring money into the place. He got better decorations, paid for better maintance and more cleaning staff so the floor would stop being so sticky. He got his costume designer to come measure the talent and get them better costumes to add to their repertoire. He even got a lights technician and one of his music directors to come work with the guys Dean had already hired to help them run a better show. 

Harry was very hands on about all of it, and he couldn’t say the employees were unhappy to have him, as Harry did make certain the Hart Brand harassment policies were strictly enforced (in a way Dean clearly never had). Better pay, better atmosphere, non-sticky floors and no more sticky fingers crawling down the staff’s pants. 

So Harry didn’t think it was wrong for him to come out and watch Eggsy’s floor show. There was nothing wrong with his eyes constantly straying to the schedule or having someone come and get him whenever Eggsy was about to be up. Nothing wrong at all. 

This was why Harry was there to see the man who started to feel up Eggsy. In Harry’s normal facilities, such a person would get one warning, then the boot for the night. Harry had the rules posted and the bouncers told everyone who came in where the lines were. They even handed fliers to each patron. The rules were tightening up, so there was no need to warn someone to not feel up the talent. They’d already been warned. 

But this was different. This was a man putting his hand down Eggsy’s pants and squeezing. Eggsy had his hackles up and was stiff as a board. He tried to pull away, and Harry saw Eggsy flinch. The man had a tight enough grip to keep Eggsy still and to hurt him. 

Harry crossed the room with long, fast strides. He grabbed a plate of fries from one of the waitresses that passed. He murmured an excuse me as he went. He knew she was watching him. He never really interfered with work except to throw someone else. He didn’t see the way her eyes widened when she saw the person he was walking to had hold of Eggsy. They all knew what happened to Dean, but they didn’t know what Harry was going to do. All the staff who saw where Harry was headed (which was quickly all of them because of the speed he was moving at) froze in their place, even the girl on stage. 

Harry brought the plate up and cracked it over the man’s head. He let go of his vicious grip on Eggsy’s tush because he began to lose consciousness. Eggsy pulled away hurriedly, the man’s limp hand slipping out of his pants. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” Eggsy said. He spoke shortly, but he was glaring at the limp man, not Harry. 

“Escort this gentleman out the rear entrance,” Harry said to the bouncers who’d started coming that way when they’d seen Harry’s trajectory. 

“Right on, Boss,” one of them, Andrew (Harry was making an effort to learn everyone’s name, it was polite), said. 

The pair scooped the man off and carried him out through the crowd. The music was still playing, but all of the patrons were staring at them now. Harry walked out after his staff and the stranger, who was beginning to stir. 

The bouncers, Andrew and Liam, dropped the man on the ground. He groaned and sat up. 

“How does you head feel?” Harry asked with a smile. 

“Hurts,” the man said groggily. 

“Good,” Harry said. He grabbed the man’s arm. He twisted it behind the man, dislocating it from the man’s shoulder. “You put your hand on my boyfriend, did you realize?” he asked in a pleasant but loud tone so he could be heard over the man’s groans of pain. 

“S-Sorry mate. Didn’t realize,” the stranger started. Harry broke one of fingers. 

“Eggsy is very, very dear to me. And even if he wasn’t, he is an excellent talent that my club is very lucky to have. I don’t allow that kind of behavior in my establishments. That was why the bouncers told you at the door to not molest the staff. There are signs everywhere. You were warned not to do such a thing.” He broke a second finger. 

The man screamed. “I’m sorry mate! I’m sorry!” 

“I know you are,” Harry said. He broke a third. “You’re never going to do this again.” 

The man whimpered in pain. 

“You’re never going to do this again,” Harry said more coldly. He grabbed the man’s forth finger. 

“I won’t! I won’t!” The man shouted, near hysterics. 

“Good,” Harry said and let him go. “Now go away and don’t ever come back.” 

The man scrambled to get away and out of the alley way. Harry appreciated that the man went with great speed. He turned back to his staff. Andrew and Liam hand their mouths hanging open, but Harry didn’t worry about that. Eggsy had followed after them and Harry hadn’t noticed. Eggsy still had on his stage clothes, just heels and pants and it was far too close to fall for him to be standing out there in so little. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. He took off his jacket and slipped it around Eggsy’s shoulders. Eggsy was staring at him. 

“You didn’t do all that to Dean,” Eggsy said. 

“I could if you’d like me to,” Harry said. 

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Eggsy said quickly. He slipped his arms into Harry’s jacket and allowed Harry to lead him inside. “Is that gonna cost you any?” 

“I have good liability insurance,” Harry said, guiding Eggsy back to his office. 

“Uh-huh,” Eggsy said. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

“Oh Eggsy, you never could,” Harry promised and kissed his cheek. “You performed brilliantly tonight.” 

“You’re just saying that cause I’m your boyfriend, apparently,” Eggsy said. 

Harry laughed. “That’s what you have a problem with?” 

“Well, we didn’t discuss it or anything,” Eggsy said. “I thought we was just screwing.” 

“I assure you, Eggsy, we’re not just anything.” He gave his young lover a heated kiss, which Eggsy reciprocated instantly and equally. Harry felt his heart flutter a bit. Normally his lovers were at least worried about his violence, but if anything Eggsy seemed turned on by it. 

And maybe Harry should have been worried about that. But really, Harry found Eggsy being turned on like that to be a fairly big turn on as well.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Harry was jealous was his own damn fault. He was, after all the one who introduced Eggsy to her, and suggested they’d make a good pair for pole dancing competitions. Roxanna Morton was one of Percival’s best finds. She was one of those rich young women who had so much more going for them than money. She had breed and stature and a military background, but also a love of the arts of the body. Her routines were art, and she always took home high prizes at competitions, which did help the Hart Brand. 

Also, Harry liked her. She was very smart. She wanted to own one of Harry’s clubs in a few years, and she was saving up. Harry was honestly looking forward to working with her. He knew that with Percival training her that she’d be an excellent club manager. 

The problem was that Roxanne Morton was beautiful. 

Well, that wasn’t a problem for the business. It was a problem because after Harry introduced them she and Eggsy started spending so much time together. And Eggsy positively gushed about how awesome “Roxy” was. And she was beautiful and talented and brilliant, and honestly about Eggsy’s age. 

So Harry had very good reasons to be jealous. 

Also, she was beautiful. 

Harry got Eggsy to practice and Percival’s club. They had better equipment. They actually had two poles to practice a couple’s act. Of course they needed to be able to work off one pole, but it gave them space to practice individually. 

Also it gave Harry a reason to spend a little less time at Dean’s Dames. 

They were a brilliant couple… well for the couple’s competitions, anyway. Roxy was just as lithe as Eggsy. (Eggsy told Harry that Roxy had done ballet, which Harry knew anyway.) She also seemed to enjoy the aerial tricks just as well as Eggsy. They worked well together. 

Within a few weeks of meeting and beginning their partnership, Roxy made a mistake and started to fall, but Eggsy caught her and cradled her to him as he slowly circled down the pole. It actually made the routine better, and Percival insisted they should it add it to the routine. 

“Only if I can fall and Rox can catch me later,” Eggsy said with a big smile. 

“I’m up for it,” Roxy said. 

So the two of them spent hours falling and catching until it was perfect. Their routine was perfect. They were perfect together. 

After another absolutely perfect practice Eggsy was perfectly chipper as he came over to Harry’s table. He gave Harry a very heated kiss. That made Harry smile, normally anyway. Not he just frowned. And that made Eggsy frown too. 

“Is something wrong, Harry?” Eggsy asked. 

“Nothing,” Harry said quietly. He stood up and offered Eggsy and arm in escort. “Shall we head to work.” 

“Yeah,” Eggsy with a smile. 

As they walked out to the car, Eggsy started talking quickly, giving Harry a blow by blow of the practice. This was Harry’s fault, because he’d told Eggsy it was good to talk about it while it was fresh so Eggsy would have a better idea of what he should work on for the next practice. 

But it had turned into a fawing session over just how awesome Roxy was. Harry tightened his grip on the steering wheel. She was very lucky that she was Percival’s hire and not his. Percival would never, ever allow Harry to fire her just because he was jealous. 

“Harry, you okay?” Eggsy asked. 

“Fine,” Harry said. 

“Mate, when you say ‘fine’ though gritted teeth, it doesn’t sound very ‘fine’.” 

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “I’m fine, Eggsy,” Harry insisted. 

“You’ve… just been really quiet the past few days. And I wondered if maybe I’d done something.” Eggsy said with an uncertain voice. That made Harry feel like a real heel. 

“No, Eggsy. I promise you that you you’ve don’t nothing wrong,” Harry said earnestly. 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

Harry sighed deeply. They were stooped at a light. Harry stayed silent. When the light changed harry found a car park to pull into. He parked and shut off the car and then sighed. “I’m sorry Eggsy. I suppose I haven’t been that honest recently?” 

“Oh?” Eggsy asked. He was trying to seem not too interested, but Harry could tell that Eggsy was scared, which just made Harry feel worse. 

“I’ve been feeling jealous,” Harry pressed on. He didn’t want to torment Eggsy with drawing out the talk anymore. 

“Of what?” Eggsy asked with honest disbelief in his voice.

“You and Roxy,” Harry said. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I know… I know it’s nothing but-”

“Do you need me to cut it off with her?” Eggsy asked quickly. 

That surprised Harry enough to look over at Eggsy and see that Eggsy was giving him a really intent look. Eggsy would do it too. He could see that written on Eggsy’s face. Harry felt terribly fond of Eggsy very suddenly. He reached out and touched his face. 

“No, Eggsy. I don’t need to you to stop. I know this makes you happy. And you’re both very good at what you do. I’m just being a fool.” 

“I don’t like her like I like you Harry. I like her like, say if I had a sister or something,” Eggsy said. “And she’s dating another bird anyway. So, you know.” Eggsy said. 

Harry suddenly laughed. “Really?” 

“Yeah, pretty Swedish girl who’s doing a gap year here,” Eggsy said. “I went out for drinks with them last week. They’re cute together.” 

Harry felt very silly. There had been nothing to be jealous about to begin with. He shook his head. “I’m so sorry Eggsy. I was being foolish.” 

“Yeah, you should have told me a while ago,” Eggsy said. “I knew you were a jealous guy to begin with. It’s not like you don’t break bones whenever anyone gets too handsy. If you’d told me you were worried I could have told you not to be and you wouldn’t have had us both all worried the past month.” 

“Yes, you’re right,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.” He felt truly relieved. It just washed though him. 

“Good,” Eggsy said. He leaned across the car and gave Harry a kiss. Harry smiled at him. 

“May I make it up to you?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, you may,” Eggsy said. He had an evil look in his eye. 

“I take it you have an idea of what you want already?” Harry asked. He knew the dark gleam was in his eye too. He loved Eggsy’s ideas. 

“So, so many,” Eggsy said. “You better call someone and tell them that we’re doing to be late tonight.” 

Harry dutifully dug his phone out of his trousers.


End file.
